


Healing Words

by wynnebat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Auror Harry Potter, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Getting Together, HP: EWE, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Severus Snape Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24811831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnebat/pseuds/wynnebat
Summary: Severus' gaze lingers on Harry’s injuries, from his bandage-wrapped hands to the way he isn’t standing evenly. “I assume you have an excuse.”Smiling, although with the way freshly healed skin is a little too tight it comes out more like a grimace than Harry would like, he says, “You could say that.”
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 17
Kudos: 542





	Healing Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maurey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maurey/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Mau! I hope you have a wonderful day. I wish you lots of happiness, laughter, and good health, and I'm sending you all the good vibes from my part of the world to yours ❤🎉

Harry doesn’t mean to linger, but it takes a few hours for him to tentatively try apparating a distance longer than two meters. His body feels like one big bruise and his magic isn’t doing much better. He can already divine Severus’ opinions on his magical skill and intelligence and what kind of quality of work Harry is bringing to the auror department. He lingers in his flat for another moment, but he’s nothing if not brave, and it’s not as though he has an official appointment with Severus. For all that Harry has settled into a routine of dropping by every Sunday, he is convinced that Severus barely noticed his absence last week.

Spinning around, Harry appears on the cobblestone path that leads to a rather charming cottage. No neighbors except for the birds and other animals that occasionally wander through the yard, no one to disturb the silence. Except for Harry, who knocks on the door. Then again, then once more, until finally it opens.

“You’re late by two weeks and three hours,” Severus drawls even before he has a chance to look him over. When he does, there is a minute change to his expression, and he takes another careful look. His gaze lingers on Harry’s injuries, from his bandage-wrapped hands to the way he isn’t standing evenly. “I assume you have an excuse.”

Smiling, although with the way freshly healed skin is a little too tight it comes out more like a grimace than Harry would like, he says, “You could say that.”

Severus turns and Harry takes it as an indication to follow him through to the kitchen. When Severus pulls out a chair, Harry sits in it and suffers through the incoming diagnostic test with patience. Maybe with a strange sort of appreciation, too. He had expected some acknowledgment of the first real injury he’d suffered while on the job, but he hadn’t expected Severus to care to this extent. Or at all. Harry had fallen into the habit of visiting Severus in the three years since the war, dropping by to pass on gossip from Minerva or to assist with his brewing in small ways or to listen to Severus point out errors a particularly terrible potions magazine that Harry is convinced he only subscribes to in order to mock it. Severus has never closed his door on him, but neither has he seemed to care if Harry eventually stopped coming.

“What happened?” Severus asks as the diagnostic charm glows between them. “I can tell it was a dark fire spell, but not how you came to be in its way.”

Harry reaches up to scratch his chin, mindful of the bandages and of Severus’ expression. “Fisher was possessed by a vengeful spirit during his last raid in Knockturn Alley. I don’t know if it wanted revenge on aurors specifically, but it was happy enough to have us as collateral damage. He attacked Roberts. I came up behind him and subdued him, but not before I was hit with—” he waves his hands “—whatever this is. The healers say it will take a few weeks to fully heal. I’m on desk duty until then. Fisher is still in St. Mungo’s, so is Roberts. They’re going to make it, but they’re not doing well. It’s a mess.”

“What do they have you on?”

Harry lists off the potions regimen to his best recollection.

In turn, Severus says, “I can do better. You can’t trust just any brewer with salves to regenerate skin after dark magic.” He sighs, as though this isn’t where this was going from his first suggestion, and says, “I’ll brew it myself.”

“I’ll pay,” Harry says.

“Of course.”

“And I would help you collect the ingredients if I could,” Harry offers. “It’s fun.” Some of his brightest moments this summer have been foraging through the forest for ingredients with Severus, just the two of them.

“You would collapse if you tried now.”

Harry can’t disagree. “Probably.”

“The Daily Prophet doesn’t seem to have discovered your injury,” Severus comments on the heels of another spell.

“It’ll come out any day. No doubt Rita is just waiting for some juicy interviews,” Harry says. Then he thinks about Severus’ words, really thinks about then, and with some hesitance adds, “Were you looking for information on me when I didn’t show up?”

Severus huffs. “When no word came from you, I assumed you had gotten yourself into trouble once again. You have a penchant for danger and your job isn’t without its hazards.”

It’s not a straight answer, but it’s enough to make Harry feel warm all over. “I’m sorry I was gone last week.”

Despite everything, a part of him almost expects Severus to say, _I didn’t notice you were gone_. Or _good riddance. It was better without you._ It’s not that he doesn’t know that Severus enjoys his company on some level. Severus doesn’t suffer any intrusions on his life after the war if he doesn’t enjoy them; he no longer teaches and his correspondence is almost entirely through owl post, with the exception of Harry. But there’s a part of him that yearns for his approval anyway—not as a student, but as a friend and as a man, with feelings that Harry hasn’t found the words for.

Instead, Severus says, “Don’t make it a habit.”

“Yeah?” Harry says, heart thudding against his chest.

“I’ve grown used to your company.”

With a wave of his wand, the diagnostic spells disappear, and all that is left is Severus standing in front of him. Harry looks up at him from his chair and thinks that he’s too far away to do this right. He stands. It’s too fast; he’s still on the mend and not nearly at full strength, and within moments he finds Severus’ hands steadying him by the forearms.

“Does that mean you like my company?” Harry asks. He can’t seem to look away from Severus’ eyes. “And me?”

Severus doesn’t release him, not by grip or by gaze. “Do your questions have a point?”

Harry leans in slowly, waiting for Severus to push him away if that’s what he wants, but there is only anticipation and surprised affection in his gaze. Harry kisses him like he has wanted to do for much too long. He finds himself held closer instead of further. Severus is warm and oh so wonderful, and despite Harry’s injuries, he wouldn’t change this moment in any way.

Eventually, Severus murmurs, “Yes, I do,” in response, and Harry grins and kisses him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm also on [Tumblr](https://wynnefic.tumblr.com/).


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